Wasted Opportunities
by Doggiegal
Summary: He had grown to care somewhat about her, despite all his efforts otherwise, and wanted the best for her. She could get clean, get a new job, get a better boyfriend. She could live an ideal life. One without him in it. [oneshot]


_Wasted Opportunities_

By Doggiegal

He felt guilty. That was one of the reasons he'd kicked her out (which, of course, made him feel worse) earlier. Who was she? He knew she used smack, that she danced at the Catscratch Club, that she was interested in pursuing a relationship with him. She went by Mimi, although he couldn't say whether it was a nickname or not.

He felt bad because he didn't know if she had HIV…and secretly hoped she did. It was unfair of him to wish such a thing on her. The only reason he did so was because he himself was HIV positive. It was no use denying the attraction he felt for her, but it would be impossible to have a relationship with anyone who wasn't the same.

Another part of him, the nicer part (who, to be honest, didn't make an appearance very often), he supposed, was hoping that she _wasn't_ HIV positive. He had grown to care somewhat about her, despite all his efforts otherwise, and wanted the best for her. She could get clean, get a new job, get a better boyfriend. She could live an ideal life. One without him in it.

He couldn't tell her. Not knowing was better than knowing if they had a chance as a couple. But really, how good a couple could two HIV positive people be, though? Look at how April turned out. Plus, he didn't want to see the horror fill her face, her disgust, when he told her. She'd ask if it was contagious, backing up all the while to get the hell away from him. April hadn't been able to deal with AIDS or him, so why would she?

Looking back now, Roger knew that what he and April had had wasn't true love. It was a type of love, as he had cared for her immensely, but even if she'd lived he doubted they would have worked out. They had a drug-based relationship, and things were always more physical than emotional. Getting clean was hard for him, but he was certain that it would have killed her.

He'd been incredibly nervous when asking her if she wanted to accompany him—well, them—to the Life Café, more nervous than he thought he should be. '_She's just a girl,' _he told himself, but that really did no good.

Maureen's show was a bit ridiculous and over the top (or, rather, over the moon?), but he couldn't really complain. Save for the whole screaming thing the girls had done. That was really annoying, but amazingly, in a really Un-Roger-like manner, he hadn't told them so. Probably because he was already on thin ice with Mimi because of the way he'd blown up at her…even if he didn't act like that affected him at all. His nonchalance was a way of keeping him from hurt.

At the Café, all Hell broke loose when Benny tried to explain the reason the cops went out of line. Mark stood up to him, and practically everyone else in the building backed him up. He probably never would admit it, but even Roger enjoyed giving Benny a taste of his own medicine. He'd turned his back on Mark, Collins, and Roger himself, so it was high time for them to do the same.

When his AZT beeper went off, he braced himself for her reactions, her questions, her hate. He did regret never being able to kiss her or anything; one kiss really wasn't so much to ask, was it? However, what he wasn't prepared for was her act of pulling out _her _AZT and taking one. Unsurprisingly, they became a couple a short while after, when he'd asked her to come outside so her didn't have Collins and all them on his case—though it didn't really work, seeing as how they would up kissing in front of the gang when they reentered.

That had been before things had gone sour between them, before Angel's death, when she had gone back to smack and, he feared, Benny. He'd broken up with her, not listening to what she tried to tell him in an effort to make it hurt less—it didn't, of course. He fled to Santa Fe for a couple of months, but he saw her everywhere. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore, and went home, writing his song about her, his muse. His pride protested against this course of action, but his heart and mind forced it down. Their time on Earth was limited by the virus they'd contracted. They would have a short time together even without this forced separation.

To find out that he was too late—that she was missing—nearly killed him. He searched for her up and down, always keeping a flyer on him with her info on it. She was gone, like April, and it was all his fault. When he saw her limp in Joanne's arms after hearing Maureen's cry for help, he ran down, helping carry her up the stairs.

He regretted wishing that she was HIV positive now, and again he felt selfisg. He gave her the gift of his song, knowing that it was hers and that it would die with her. She was the reason it existed; it wasn't right for it to live without her. And then she'd stopped breathing, and he'd thought he'd lost her. But her hand twitched, and she was back. "Thank God this moment's not the last," he'd whispered.

In the end, he couldn't help but be secretly glad that she was HIV positive, and glad that Angel had helped them have a chance together.

* * *

**Author's note: First RENT fic.**

**-Doggiegal**


End file.
